Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
DONOVAN/ DECLAN
DONOVAN
Declan kissed me like he was trying to devour me, like if he let go, I would disappear.
But I wasn’t going anywhere. Not when he was finally touching me the way I had always envisioned.
His hands were rough, desperate, but there was something else in his touch. Something new, something more. Possession.
He wasn’t just reaching for me in the heat of the moment, wasn’t just indulging in something reckless and fleeting.
Declan was claiming me. Finally, he had stopped fighting this. Stopped pretending that we were just a mistake waiting to happen.
This wasn’t a quick, stolen moment in the dark. This wasn’t an attempt to scratch an itch and move on like nothing happened.
The way his fingers dug into my skin, the way his lips moved against mine, the way he pressed his body flush against mine like he was terrified of letting go.
It all sent heat curling deep in my stomach, made my breath hitch, made me ache in ways I wasn’t sure I’d recover from.
I gasped when he nipped at my jaw, his mouth trailing down my throat, his breath cool against my flushed skin.
"Declan," I whispered, my voice shaking.
He groaned, the sound low and ragged, his grip tightening. We dispensed with the rest of our clothes and once that was finally out of the way, I started kissing him again.
I gasped when he bit my bottom lip, his fangs just barely scraping against the skin.
A shiver ran through me, my fingers digging into his back, holding onto him as he kissed down my jaw, my throat, teeth grazing over my pulse.
He let out a low, rough sound, one that made heat curl in my stomach, made me ache. I had wanted this for so long. For years, we had danced around this.
We pretended the occasional stolen moments, the desperate kisses, the hookups in the dark meant nothing but to me, they meant everything.
"Donovan," he rasped, his forehead resting against mine, his fingers gripping my waist like he was trying to ground himself.
"Don’t stop," I whispered. "I want this. I want you."
He paused and I could feel the war inside him. The hesitation, the guilt, the part of him that still thought he should pull away.
But then I ran my uninjured hand down his chest, over the defined lines of his stomach, tracing the muscles there, and something in him snapped.
In the next breath, he pinned me to the bed, his mouth on mine, hot and desperate, his hands everywhere at once. Touching, gripping, claiming.
Even in the heat of passion, he was careful with me, mindful of my still-healing arm, his touch gentle even as his desire burned hot.
I arched into him, needing more, needing everything. His skin was cool against mine, his body pressing me into the mattress, his weight grounding me, making my head spin.
I ran my fingers through his hair, tugging slightly, and he groaned, his lips trailing down my throat, my chest, my stomach.
“My pants. Lube and condom,” was all I managed to say.
Declan got off me for a hot second and retrieved the condom and lube. He tore the packaging, slipped the condom on and straddled me again.
He lubed me up, sliding one, then two fingers inside my entrance. I panted as he stretched and readied me for his access. Deeming me ready, he pulled his fingers out.
His mouth found mine again as he slid his prick inside me, slow and careful, like he was memorizing every second of this.
A sharp gasp left my lips at the stretch, the pleasure that followed, the feeling of him finally being mine.
He buried his face against my neck, his hands gripping my hips as he started to move.
I was lost.
Every roll of his hips, every brush of his skin against mine, every gasped breath, every moan from my lips, it was too much and not enough all at once.
We moved together, desperate and slow, like we were trying to make up for every second we had wasted. I begged him to go fast, deeper and Declan complied.
He felt so good inside me. Perfect.
Each time Declan entered me, it felt like a piece of his soul reached out to brush mine. The next time he slid in me, I gasped, arching my back.
Declan had found my sweet spot. He flashed me a mischievous smile and for a moment, he reminded me so much of the old Declan.
Then he pounded into me, making sure he hit my prostate every single time. I gasped, my balls tightening against my body.
In a few more strokes, I finally fell apart beneath him, my body tightening around him. The room fell away from my line of sight.
I cried out his name, emptying my jazz onto his stomach and abs.
Declan pumped in and out of me a few more times, before reaching climax. He groaned, slowly pulling himself out.
Declan went to the bathroom, disposed of the condom and returned with a towel to clean us both up. With that done, he joined me again in bed, pulling me close.
I melted into him without hesitation. The room was quiet except for the soft sound of my breathing.
The sheets were a tangled mess around us, the air heavy with warmth, the lingering heat of what we’d just done still thrumming beneath my skin.
My body felt loose, satisfied, but my mind… my mind was still trying to catch up.
Declan was on his side, watching me, his gaze unreadable in the dim light. One arm was wrapped tightly around my waist, anchoring me to him.
He was still holding me. Still here. Not pulling away, not retreating behind his usual walls. That realization sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.
A slow, contented smile tugged at my lips as I reached up, threading my fingers through his dark hair, playing with the strands absently.
He let me, his eyes flickering shut for a moment, a low sound of approval rumbling in his chest.
“You good?” I murmured.
Declan exhaled, the tension I hadn’t even realized he was still carrying easing slightly. His grip on me tightened, his lips brushing lazily against my bare shoulder.
"Yeah," he muttered and I was pleased actually sounded at peace.
I turned in his arms, pressing my forehead to his, breathing him in. He smelled like us now, like sweat and sex, like something undeniably ours.
We weren’t perfect.
We were still tangled in a mess so deep I wasn’t sure we could crawl our way out of it. The uncertainty of what came next should have scared me more.
Maybe it would the next day. Maybe I’d wake up and everything would fall apart again. But right now? In this moment? He was mine. And I was his.
DECLAN
The evening air was crisp, the stars just beginning to pierce through the thinning clouds.
The world felt oddly still, as if the chaos that had shaped our past few days had finally given us a brief moment of peace. And for once, I let myself believe in it.
Donovan had suggested a walk earlier, and despite my initial hesitation, I agreed.
We couldn’t stay holed up in that cabin forever, and after everything that had happened between us last night, things between us felt… different. Better.
He wasn’t leaving. He was staying with me. That knowledge settled something deep inside me, quieting the storm of doubt that had been raging for days.
We walked side by side along the worn dirt path, the sounds of the forest around us a quiet lull.
Donovan’s arm brushed against mine, and a second later, his fingers slipped into my hand, twining together like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I didn’t hesitate and squeezed his hand back. His touch was warm, grounding. A tether to something real in a world that had felt so uncertain.
For a while, we walked in silence, simply existing in the moment. But reality had a way of creeping back in. I glanced at him, studying the way the fading light caught in his eyes.
“We can’t keep hiding out here forever,” I said finally, my voice quiet but firm. “We need a plan, Donovan. What’s our next move? Are we going back to the States, or are we staying in Europe?”
He exhaled through his nose, lips pressing together in thought. A blood-curdling scream tore through the air, cutting him off. A second later, a low, guttural growl followed.
My entire body stiffened. Another rabid vampire? Just how many of these things were out there?
Vampires, like shifters, were social creatures by nature. They thrived in nests, ruled by a vampire king or queen, their instincts wired for hierarchy and order.
But these rabid ones… had they once belonged to a nest?
Had their leader, whoever had kept them in check, been wiped out, leaving them to spiral into madness with no one to reel them back in?
The thought sent an icy chill down my spine.
Because if that was the case, then there could be more. More vampires slipping into this mindless, feral state, more creatures driven only by hunger and bloodlust.
I barely had time to react before Donovan was running like the reckless, stubborn bastard he was.
“Donovan!” I barked, but he didn’t stop.
I swore and bolted after him.
His arm was still healing, for heaven’s sake. He wasn’t in any condition to fight, even if he’d been smart enough to bring one of his hunting knives.
But a single blade wouldn’t be enough against a feral, not if it was as crazed as the ones we’d fought before.
The forest blurred around me as I pushed harder, dodging branches and weaving through trees, my senses honing in on the sounds ahead.
A second growl echoed, closer this time.
Then I saw a woman in her late twenties. She was pale, wide-eyed, bleeding, scrambling backward as a vampire crouched low in front of her, its movements jerky and unnatural.
It was gone, lost to its hunger, its lips curled back over sharp, stained fangs. A snarl rumbled from its throat, its limbs coiling like a spring, preparing to pounce.
Donovan didn’t hesitate.
He was already moving, already drawing his blade and lunging before I could reach him.
“Donovan, wait!”
Too late. His knife slashed through the air, catching the rabid just as it lunged. The blade sank deep into its side, but the thing barely reacted, its hunger overriding any pain.
It swung wildly, claws flashing. Donovan barely managed to dodge. I hit the scene a second later, and I didn’t think. I just moved.
My body collided with the rabid’s, slamming it sideways, sending both of us crashing to the ground. Snarling, it twisted beneath me, its fangs snapping inches from my face.
I grabbed its throat, using my weight to pin it down, my muscles burning as I fought to hold it back.
But it was strong. Too strong. I could hear Donovan panting nearby, his grip on his knife tightening. He was circling, looking for an opening.
I bared my fangs at the creature beneath me, my instincts roaring to the surface. My hunger stirred, but I shoved it down, focusing only on the fight.
The rabid let out a strangled, animalistic screech, its movements erratic and violent, its eyes nothing but empty voids. Only one way to end this.
“Donovan. Now!” I snarled.
Without hesitation, he lunged.
His blade sank deep into the rabid’s throat, twisting sharply. The creature let out a final, garbled shriek before its body spasmed then went still.
Silence crashed around us.
I exhaled hard, releasing my grip, feeling its dead weight beneath me.
It was over.
Donovan stumbled back, his chest rising and falling, his knife slick with blood. His eyes darted to me, his gaze searching.
“You okay?” he asked, voice rough.
I let out a short, breathless laugh. “Am I okay? You’re the one with the injured arm, running into fights like an idiot.”
He smirked despite himself, wiping his blade on his pants before sheathing it. “You love it.”
I snorted. “I tolerate it.”
A soft groan made both of us turn.
The woman.
I pushed myself up, walking over as she struggled to sit up. Blood stained her shirt, but the wounds didn’t seem deep. Her eyes flickered between us, wild with fear.
“It’s okay,” Donovan said gently, crouching beside her. “You’re safe now.”
Her lips parted, but no words came out. She was in shock.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. This complicated things. We couldn’t exactly just leave her here. Donovan glanced up at me, his expression unreadable.
“Well,” he murmured. “Let’s get her inside the cabin and figure out what happened.”